How to be a Handmade Hero: Part Six – cooking, kittens, fair trade fun and escape to Jakarta. Featuring Come Dine with Me revamped for Indonesia, a small ginger kitten, how buying fair trade can save the world, a mad dash into Jakarta for lovely, lovely fabric, shells wearing googly eyes, and a final goodbye.
Part five of my video diary of the trip. How to be a Handmade Hero: Part Five – Early mornings, markets and cat poo coffee.
Featuring some very tired people, one of the most impressive markets ever, a conversation with a street dog, and coffee made from cat poo. Yes really.
Part four of my video diary of the trip to Indonesia with Save the Children. How to be a Handmade Hero: Part Four – Babies, Bieber, lollipops and lovely crafters.
Featuring even more cute kiddies, a vague reference to Justin Bieber that I am putting in to get traffic, lollipops and a load of lovely craft folks. I also chuck in a short lesson on how to speak Indonesian. Kind of.
As part of the #imapiece Craftivist Jigsaw Project I was sent to Indonesia, on a mission to show the work they are doing to fight hunger, and how our voices calling for aid here can make a big difference over there.
Here’s How to be a Handmade Hero: Part Three – Kids, goats, bad jokes and home gardens. Warning: may feature impassive goats.
Sometimes you have to make a stand. Even when you’re less than 10cm tall and a handknitted mouse. Maybe especially when you’re 10cm tall and a handknitted mouse. You may only be one teeny tiny squeak but maybe if you squeak up when things are unjust then someone will hear you and stand with you. […]
The final part in my tale of book worm dream and wrestling with the Grim Reaper: We last left me facing off against the Big Casino (my affectionate term for the evil cancer I was battling) with the desire to pick up a pair of knitting needles. (If you missed it read Part One first) […]
Here’s where the phrase ‘Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.’ echoes loudly through my life.
In the screaming face of all that horror I did what any girl in peril would do. I learned to knit.
I’ll end with my very favourite moment in Augsburg. It was totally unplanned, unofficial and possibly rather illegal. If defined by was over and the White Wall on the side of the stadium was to be demolished at sunrise then there was clearly only one thing we could possibly do. I’m so glad someone managed to talk these mysterious figures into it…
Yesterday morning I was art. It was all the fault of Mr Antony Gormley, whose cast-iron sculptures scared the bejesus out of half of London in 2007 by peering down from South Bank rooftops like rusty angels of death.
Cold and very grumpy trains refuse to leave their grit-platformed stations. Colder and grumpier commuters stand around Underground entrances muttering, but secretly happy to ‘work from home’. Little old ladies grudgingly turn up the thermostat and peer in horror at pavements that promise hip replacements. Double decker buses slide gracefully into turns. The Grenadier guards […]